Healed (Book Three of the Castle Coven Series): A Witch and Warlock Romance Novel

by Hazel Hunter

“They probably are members of the cult itself,” she murmured, and Sophia nodded.

  “That’s right. And that’s all I can tell you. I’m sorry, Lucius, for I can be of no more help to you. I’m sorry that you have found yourself wrapped in something terrible.”

  Lucius’s smile was narrow and grim.

  “Truthfully, so am I. Thank you, Sophia. We won’t trouble you further.”

  Liona opened the door to leave, startling a young girl who was going by carrying water. She paused to let the girl past, doing her best not to watch Lucius’s farewell kiss to Sophia. It was too easy to imagine the two of them wrapped up in each other, touching, caressing, doing more. It didn’t bother her, exactly. She couldn’t tell what emotions it roused except for a guilty excitement.

  He is such a very handsome man, she thought.

  Lucius emerged, but as they walked down the hall, a vision struck Liona with the force of a blow. She actually gasped. Even as Lucius asked her what was wrong, she was sprinting back down the hallway, throwing open the door to Sophia’s room.

  “Sophia, you must leave.”

  Sophia raised a curious eyebrow.

  “And why is that, little one? Surely you wouldn’t accuse a casual friend of stealing your lover’s heart away.”

  “I don’t care about that,” Liona said hotly, “but you must leave Rome. As soon as you can. Tonight if possible.”

  Lucius was behind her, and he put a steadying hand on her shoulder.

  “What is it? What do you see, Liona?”

  She shivered.

  “I see fire,” she whispered. “I see burning paper, burning people. I see this place on fire, Sophia, and you must get out.”

  Sophia regarded her with narrowed eyes.

  “You have a gift for fortunetelling, then?”

  “She has power, Sophia.”

  Sophia turned to Lucius.

  “What would you do in my position?”

  To Liona’s relief, the other woman was asking calmly and inquisitively. At least she wasn’t dismissing the warning out of hand.

  “I would do what she said,” Lucius said promptly. “You know me. I’m an old soldier. I follow orders, but I know when fate has a hand in things. With this one, fate whispers in her ear. I wouldn’t take the chance.”

  Sophia nodded. “Be on your way,” she said. “I imagine you both have dangerous things to do.”

  “But what are you–”

  Lucius firmly took Liona’s hand and guided her out.

  “She’ll do exactly what she is going to do. You’ve said your piece. Now we need to get started on finding the people who have taken our family.”

  As the sun set and as the night people of Rome started to come out, their investigation continued. Lucius’s informants were spread across the city, in other brothels, in gambling dens and in the homes of moneylenders.

  Most had not heard of the mystery cult represented by a hand and a flame. The few who had knew no more than Sophia had. One man, the owner of a gaming house on the edge of the city, had immediately ejected them from the premises.

  Liona was dejected by their lack of progress, but Lucius only shrugged when she mentioned it.

  “Every hunt must start somewhere, and no one lives in this world without leaving some trace. The men of this mystery cult, they eat, they have families and they have names. Sometime soon we will find people who know them.”

  Liona chewed her lip.

  “But by then Augusta and Titus may be dead, sacrificed to some dark god.”

  Lucius’s face was grim.

  “Then we avenge them,” he said simply. She remembered the wolf who had torn out the throat of a slaver. It was that simple for him.

  “I would rather have a living sister,” she murmured.

  “I would rather have a living friend.”

  They walked in silence for a moment. Liona’s feet ached, and her belly was empty. Lucius, hardened by years of warring for Rome, may have been accustomed to going without, but she was not. Still she tried to keep up with him, following him from boarding house to gambling den, until finally she stumbled.

  His strong arm was there to catch her when she fell. She struggled to her feet.

  “I can keep going,” she protested, but he shook his head, chagrined.

  “No, I don’t think that’s wise,” he said, looking around. “You’re falling asleep on your feet. There’s nothing to be done this night anyway. We can pick up again in the morning.”

  She would have fought longer, but he was right. She was so tired that she was only staring at the pavement in front of her. She would be useless if anything happened; she’d be worse than useless because in a fight, Lucius would have to worry about her.

  He found them a small boarding house that was on the slightly safer side of shabby, and after settling her on the bed, he went down to the kitchen to find them a plate of olives, bread and grilled lamb.

  “Oh, that smells delicious,” Liona said, sitting up.

  Lucius came to sit down next to her, letting her pick what she liked from the plate.

  “The woman in the kitchen is worried about you,” he said teasingly. “She thinks we’re up to all sorts of improper things up here.”

  Liona swallowed her olive and laughed.

  “And what did you tell her?”

  “I told her that I would guard you with my life.”

  Liona watched him for a moment, studying the way he seemed alert even when doing something as simple as eating, the way he had casually left himself between her and the door.

  “You mean that,” she said. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, one that she knew was true.

  “I do.” He sighed, shaking his head. “Do you want to talk about this now?”

  “I think I do, yes.”

  “You’re not the only fortuneteller in the world,” he said softly. “I met a woman while I was in Hispania, and she offered me my fortune in exchange for some food.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She told me that the worth of my life was to be found in a small lioness and a fierce eagle. If I let them go, if I allowed them to come to harm, my life would be worth no more than the ashes blowing over a ruined village.”

  “Evocative,” Liona murmured.

  She didn’t know what to make of his frank words, but there was a ring of truth to it. She had heard of other fortunetellers, but never met one. Still, hearing the words in Lucius’s mouth, she could feel something chill her, something like fate brushing them with the hem of her skirt.

  Lucius’s next words startled her.

  “What do you see for us?”

  She had been so set on the goal of finding Augusta that it had never occurred to her to look forward. She had always used her gift to entertain or, as she had done with Sophia, to warn.

  “I… Let me see.”

  She reached for Lucius’s hand, holding it tightly. She let her eyes drift closed. Sometimes she could see the future very plainly, but now she had to go looking for it. She concentrated on their hands, on the feel of him. She thought of Augusta. She thought of a soldier she had never met named Titus.

  Images came to her, things from the past. She had a feeling that she was moving quickly, that she was flying high over water. She could feel heat. She could hear people shouting, no, they were screaming. The images were coming faster and faster. She couldn’t see them. She couldn’t focus on one and bring it into sharp relief. They were overwhelming her. They were swarming her. If she lost her footing, she thought she would fall and drown. She could hear her own voice crying out. Her voice became Augusta’s, high and terrified. Then it turned into Lucius’s voice calling her name over and over again. He sounded frightened, even terrified. A sense of terror grasped her heart. She was afraid that she would never rise out of these images, this chaos, she was going to drown. They were all going to die.

  A sharp pain pierced her visionary haze. She yelped, twisting on the ground where she had fallen. Lucius was crouc
hed by her side, his face a mask of concern and fear.

  “What is it? What happened to you, Liona?”

  “It was terrible. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t see at all, and what I could, oh Lucius, it was all fire, all terror.”

  “Do we fail?” There was no fear in his voice, only a calm acceptance.

  She shook her head. “I can’t see. I can’t see at all.”

  Lucius looked thoughtful.

  “Yet you could see Sophia’s fate. Unless that was an attempt to get an old lover out of Rome?”

  Despite her terror, Liona’s gaze was withering.

  “Don’t flatter yourself, legatus. That was true. I saw what would happen very clearly.”

  Instead of replying, Lucius went to the door, stepping out briefly. When he returned, it was with a small boy who had his hand bandaged. Given the burns on his arms, Liona guessed that he was the pot boy, the one who turned the spits and scrubbed the dishes. He was to be a test of her ability.

  “Here you are, lad, a true fortuneteller.”

  The boy peered at Liona shyly, making her smile.

  “Here, don’t be afraid, my boy, let me see what’s in store for you.”

  She reached for his unhurt hand and held it gently. Her gift, gentle this time, lapped at the edges of her vision, giving her a picture that was far more solid, far more concrete than what she had seen before.

  “I see… I see a small house in a green place. I see a young woman with her hair tied back, and she waves at you. There you are, and my, you grow up to be a fine man. You are carrying a bag. Look, it’s full of chickens…”

  The vision broke off. Liona smiled at the boy.

  “You have a future in a green place. There’s a woman who’s happy to see you, so watch out for a girl with bright blue eyes, all right? It looks like she’s going to do you a good turn.”

  The boy smiled tentatively at her. He glanced up at Lucius, who nodded, giving him permission to leave.

  “He looks terrified,” Liona noted.

  “You should see the way you look,” said Lucius, coming to sit beside her on the bed.

  “The way I look?”

  “You’re as pale as marble, and your eyes look haunted. They likely think I’ve been having my way round and round with you. That yelling you did earlier probably didn’t help.”

  “Shame that wasn’t what we were doing,” she said with a half-hearted grin. “I could see that boy’s fate. I still have my gift. I just can’t seem to see what will become of us.”

  “Has that ever happened before?”

  “Never.”

  They finished their food in silence. When they lay down to sleep, Liona stripped to her skin.

  “You do like to tempt a man,” Lucius observed.

  Despite his calm words, there was a hunger lurking in his expression. If she were a warier woman, it would have made her nervous. She was herself, however. It only made her bold.

  “I do, but this is what I want. Is this what you want as well?”

  “That and more, but your wishes are more powerful than mine, little lioness.”

  He came to lie behind her again, his large body cupping her smaller one. This time, one large hand came to cradle her round breast. She shivered from the contact. She thought she would be aware of his body, his cock hard against her thigh, his breath, all night, but between the space of one breath and the next, she fell asleep.

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE NEXT MORNING, Liona awoke, blinking at her strange surroundings before remembering what had happened the night before. Lucius slept on next to her. She was tempted to kiss him, but her full bladder prevented that. She squirmed out from under his arm.

  Dressing quickly in the scandalous silk garment, she wrapped herself in her cloak, and ventured out to find the water closet. After that, she headed to the kitchen to find them some food.

  The cook was an older woman, white-haired and short. When she saw Liona, whole and apparently unharmed, she beamed. As she made up a plate of cold lamb and fruit for them, she shook her head.

  “Nasty doings in the city last night, my dear. If you have a home to go back to, you should do it.” Liona smiled a little ruefully, something the old cook thought she recognized. “It doesn’t matter what the likes of that man did to you, you know. Your parents will forgive and take you back. You’re their blood after all.”

  “It’s not like that at all,” she murmured. She couldn’t change the old woman’s mind, so she changed the topic instead. “What nasty doings are you talking about? Has something happened at the Senate?”

  “No, dear. It’s fires, fires set in the southern part of the city and the west. The brothel, the Golden Bough was struck first, and they are still pulling the bodies out.”

  Liona was rooted to the spot with terror, remembering what she had told Sophia the night before. She prayed the woman had at least gotten out. The apartment that she shared with Augusta was in the southern part of the city, and some of the places they had visited were in the west.

  She started to thank the cook for her news, but then the old woman continued.

  “At least they have an idea who has done it. They are looking for a legatus by the name of Lucius Magnus, who was found to have treasonous intent against the empire. Pray they catch him soon. We’ll all sleep safer in our beds.”

  Liona forced the lump of fear down her throat. She had to act naturally. She thanked the old woman for passing on, what to her, should have been a piece of gossip, albeit tragic and terrible. She picked up the tray. She even waved to the pot boy who was drowsily turning the spit. She walked sedately back to their room. Once she was inside, she bolted the door.

  Lucius woke up when the door closed. He smiled at her sleepily and started to reach for her, but he came to his feet when he saw the look on her face.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Parts of the city that we’ve visited were torched. The Golden Bough is destroyed, and it sounds like my place is gone as well. They… they say that a legatus named Magnus is behind it. They speak of treason.”

  Lucius was as still as a statue. His eyes were unfocused. He shook his head.

  “This is foolishness. They cannot believe that a legatus would–”

  Liona seized his hand, staring up at him fiercely.

  “They do. Lucius, they do. They believe that you did it, and they are hunting you now.”

  He pulled his hand away from her.

  “I have been a legatus for two years. I was awarded honors by the Senate itself. I will go, and I will explain this to them.”

  Liona felt a panic flutter in her chest, something that terrified her more than fire did.

  “Lucius, you cannot afford to be blind about this. The people you are going to see, the ones that you think will defend you and set things right? Lucius, some of those people wear pendants. Those pendants have a hand rising out of flame on them. They are going to catch you, and then they are going to kill you.”

  Lucius looked at her coldly. “The honor of a legatus is unquestioned. They will hear me.”

  Liona shook her head fiercely. She grabbed his hand again and squeezed it with all of her strength. She was afraid that if she let him go, he would walk straight to the forum. Then he would be killed.

  “Oh, yes, legatus. They will hear you. They will hear you, and then they will bring forward testimony that will swear up and down that you were the one who set the blazes. They will swear that you have a hundred men working for you, that you want nothing more than the downfall of the city and the empire. Before dawn, they will–”

  “Damn you, it isn’t true!”

  “Before dawn, they will have words from people who will swear before all the gods that you are plotting to hand the city over to barbarians and foreign kings. Then, by noon, they will offer you the honorable choice of whether you wish to be killed or whether you will fall on your own sword.”

  In the silence after her outburst, there was a deadly stillness in the air betwee
n them. The space crackled with fear and anger. For a moment, Liona was terrified that, against all sense, he would do exactly what she was afraid of. He would march himself to the Senate and turn himself in. He would believe that his honor and his truth would protect him. Then he would die. She could see it clearly enough that she was afraid it was a vision.

  Finally, he nodded.

  “You’re right,” he said, his voice clipped and short.

  “Lucius?”

  “We need to leave immediately. Rome is no longer our friend, and if we want to have any hope of finding them, we will leave now.”

  “Lucius…”

  He turned to her, and there was more yellow than brown in his eyes now.

  “You are right. Gods damn you to the nine hells, but you are right. Now we must flee. Come on.”

  The coldness of his words pierced Liona to her core. Silently, she fell into step behind him, pulling her cloak over her head so that no one would recognize her face.

  • • • • •

  Hailey didn’t realize that her hands were clenched into fists until Liona put her own hands over them. Still face to face, Liona stroked them until Hailey relaxed, humming a little until the younger woman sighed.

  “You were right, weren’t you?” Hailey said softly. “If he had gone back to the Senate, they would have killed him.”

  Liona nodded. There was always the ghost of a smirk on the woman’s face, but now she seemed serious, even sad.

  “My poor man. He was a soldier’s soldier, a warrior through and through. All his life, he had served the Empire. I’m someone who has always lived on the outside. I was the daughter of a legionnaire and a foreign woman, and there would always be those who called me foul names, a barbarian, a freak. He was different.”

  Hailey thought of her own life, so long an outsider that any kind of acceptance felt temporary. Any love that she could have was as easily taken away as given. She thought with a pang of Kieran, who had turned away from her.

  “It must be worse for them,” she mused. “The ones who have always had a place. They always knew where they fit in, and suddenly, on the day that they don’t, it all comes crashing down.”